


Let's Meet the Meat

by tempus_teapot (dreadnot)



Series: In the Strangest Places [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: in the strangest places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadnot/pseuds/tempus_teapot





	Let's Meet the Meat

Dal, Oghren, and Alistair waited for Zevran to return from scouting farther down the stairs. It had seemed a wise idea after Oghren had stumped his foot down in a leghold trap and nearly alerted the entire temple to their presence with his angry shouts.

Dal nearly jumped out of his skin when Zevran stepped out of the shadows, practically appearing out of thin air at his side.

“I have good news and bad news, my friends,” Zevran said in a low voice.

“That means screaming,” Alistair groaned. “Good news, bad news with this lot never means, ‘I found a room full of comfy beds, warm baths, and exotic cheeses.’ No, it means ‘I found a room full of screaming and stabbing and something is going to die.’”

“That brings me to the good news part of things,” Zevran said, patting Alistair’s armored arm as though comforting a small child. “As we are all hungry and none of us averse to trying a little something exotic, yes?”

Considering their supplies had run out the day before and asking two Grey Wardens to fight on empty stomachs was asking for two very irritable Grey Wardens, no, none of them were averse to a little something exotic.

“Exotic food,” Dal said, “sounds fine, except I have to wonder at your idea of exotic.”

“Let me finish with the good news first,” Zevran said. “We are none of us accomplished chefs, no?”

Zevran’s idea of cooking involved waving things at the fire to ensure they knew each other by name and then eating, Alistair cooked everything to a uniform brown mush, no one trusted Oghren to even touch their food, and Dal… Dal had a knack for giving every dish exactly the right amount of exactly the wrong seasoning. Even if all he did was skewer a rabbit over a fire, he would choose exactly the wrong firewood to impart just the right degree of inedibility.

They all agreed with Zevran’s point.

“Then we are in luck,” Zevran told them. “Because our meal will cook itself.”

“Drop the other boot,” Oghren growled. “What’s the bad news?”

Zevran shrugged. “That depends on whether you think dining on dragon meat tonight is good news or bad news.”

Alistair groaned, Dal sighed. Oghren pulled his axe off his back and hefted it eagerly. “I thought you said there was bad news in there. Let’s go meet the meat.”


End file.
